


the art of chilling the fuck out

by marquisdegayaf



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Drinking, m/f friendship :))), my favs, tipsy dancing, whizzer and trina are Good Friends and I love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marquisdegayaf/pseuds/marquisdegayaf
Summary: Whizzer and Trina chill the fuck out- together. Wrote this as a response to two prompts from @march-of-the-falsettos and @bxckflip on tumblr, thank u guys so much xx





	

It's Shabbat and Trina Weisenbachfeld is laying on a beanbag in the den with a brightass green face mask on and rollers in her hair. Her ex husband's boyfriend is laying opposite with his legs up on the coffee table, sporting an identical face mask and rollers. Dance Moms is on the TV. They're on their second bottle of the red wine Whizzer bought with Marvin's credit card ('it's a vital aspect of girls' night, Marv!') and are therefore both sporting slightly looser tongues than usual. 

"So guess what he said to me last night? Whizzer says, making Trina tear her eyes away from the screen to look over at him. He's pouting.  
"What was it this time?"  
"So I'm like, feeling myself or whatever, and I'm like 'my hair looks so good today' and Marv's like 'yeah, if you ignore the hairline'!" Trina's jaw drops.  
"He didn't!" She gasps.  
"Oh, but he did." Trina purses her lips and rolls her eyes:  
"He's just insecure about his bald patch. Don't you listen for a minute." Whizzer laughs a soft, airy laugh.  
"Thanks, T." There's a little silence. He's looking at her expectantly. She's struggling with the familiarity. She looks for something to talk about, then remembers:  
"Mendel said I'm graying the other day!"  
"He what?!" Whizzer looks like Trina's just told him that Mendel torched her closet.  
"It was an accident, he apologised like ninety times."  
"But you're literally not graying!" Whizzer still looks fully offended on her behalf. It makes her laugh. There's a comfortable silence. 

It's five minutes before Whizzer speaks again: "men are gross, right?"  
"For sure."  
"I mean, I /love/ men, but-"  
"-but they're gross. I understand."  
"Our men especially."  
"Bar Jason." Trina nods:  
"Bar Jason." Whizzer takes another sip of wine. His nose scrunches up a little when he does. Trina thinks about their men (bar Jason) a little while longer before she starts talking again: "is Marvin still emotionally constipated?"  
"You wouldn't believe how much."  
"Oh honey, I know."  
"He didn't tell me he loved me until we'd been dating for two and a half years. Two and a half, Trina!"  
"I remember that. Mendel's nowhere near as bad."  
"Lucky."  
"I am." 

When the commercial break starts Whizzer rolls over so he can look at her, but bursts out laughing. "What?"  
"You look like a pistachio!" She chucks a throw pillow at him. He dodges.  
"It's matcha and cucumber, you muppet!" He's still giggling. What a lightweight, she thinks. He shuffles over so he can lay his head in her lap and shut his eyes. His lashes are to die for, she notices. Long and full and he's not even wearing mascara. His nose is cute, as well. Small, but cute. Trina used to hate her nose, thought it was too big, too pointed, too Jewish. These days she loves it. It reminds her of her mother, who she got it from, and of Jason who got it from her. She looks back down at Whizzer and his semi-Jewish nose. She wonders where he got it. "Your mom was a goy, right?"  
"Mhm. Josie Louise Brown. Super shiksa."  
"What was she like?" His eyes are still shut.  
"Kind. Not that smart, but bright. Brave as all hell." Trina nods. Whizzer's quiet.  
"You don't wanna talk about her?"  
"I don't know enough about her to have a proper talk about her. Your mom's nice, though." Whizzer met Trina's mom Ruthie at Shul a few years ago and they hit it off. Whizzer hits it off with everyone. 

Half an hour later, Trina's finished off the third bottle of wine and broken out the Karaoke machine. They're standing shakily on the coffee table, swaying from left to right and belting out Heroes by David Bowie. Despite the fact that they're both out of their minds and giggling like nuts, their harmonies are still pretty dope. Whizzer starts crying on the third verse and Trina has to hold him up until she slips and falls back onto the couch. Whizzer spirals into hysterics and jumps onto the couch, landing next to her. He shrieks the final chorus in a piercing falsetto which makes Trina sob with laughter. 

She's trying to wipe her tears without messing up her face mask when 'time after time' starts playing and he grabs her hands and pulls her up.  
"Dance with me!" She snorts.  
"I do not dance, Whizzer. I have-", she hiccups, "-dignity." Whizzer feigns offence.  
"Fine, then. Break my heart!" He drops her hands and clutches at his chest as though mortally wounded. She giggles. He sticks his tongue out at her while still doing his weird little two step bopping dance thing. She joins in and they bop their way through the whole playlist.

When the final song (an intense pop Ballard which Whizzer just had to jump up onto the kitchen table to perform) finishes. Trina is left standing in the middle of the den, out of breath from dancing and drinking and laughing, glowing from the mix of sensations. It dawns upon her that she just fully let go for the first time in years. It feels monumental. She gives herself a quick pat on the back, grins and makes a break for the kitchen to tell her ex husband's bo- Her friend that she's pretty sure she can do the wannabe dance routine. She's happy. All is well.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this was alright?? Hope you enjoyed a xo


End file.
